


you are the angel I couldn't kill

by palette_cafe



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Best friend dynamic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Family Dynamics, Multi, SBI Family Dynamic, Slow Updates, contents of abuse, dream kinda has a god complex???, emotional mental and physical, following main smp storyline with a few altercations, ghostbur obv, main relationship focuses are sbi but everyone else ads flavor to the plot ya know, mentions of other smp members, more characters to come later - Freeform, not written explicitly !, once again i say read the notes !, read notes for content/trigger warnings !, smp dynamic is crazy, smp!dream sucks dude, symptoms of ptsd and trauma, techno and wilbur are older brothers, tommy and tubbo, tommy experiences these, warning !
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:35:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28363266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palette_cafe/pseuds/palette_cafe
Summary: Wilbur turns back to look at him for a moment and there’s a flash of the man Dream new before the war. Something wild and cold stares at Dream as Wilbur ushers Tommy into the wooden walls of their home.Interesting, Dream thinks amusingly.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound, Clay | Dream & Technoblade, Clay | Dream & TommyInnit, Clay | Dream & Wilbur Soot, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 33
Kudos: 285





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> TW !!  
> This focuses heavily on the manipulation and abuse that Tommy faces while he's with Dream, as well as the after effects. I don't go into explicit details of physical abuse as its more implied, but the manipulation is very present in a lot of their interactions. Tommy also experiences similar trauma related anxiety/panic attacks. Later on there will also be descriptions of injuries and flashbacks to the wars that can be seen as PTSD to a certain degree. 
> 
> Please read cautiously !
> 
> Thank you!

Tommy is so young. 

Young and pathetic and  _ stupid.  _ All he’s done since Dream arrived was stay in his tent. Curled in his bed and unmoving. Dream feels disgusted at the behavior. Tommy used to fight him every chance he had. The Tommy  _ he  _ knew would pick up any weapon he could and fight to get back to his friends. 

Wilbur is there. Dream watches as he builds new things for his kid brother. Sometimes, he just sits in the tent with Tommy. Dream never heard them say much, but he can only assume Wilbur is there to keep the teen from going  _ completely  _ insane. Even in his ghostly state Wilbur cares about Tommy as much as he did while alive. 

Tommy will have weeks like these. Where he is quiet and hidden away. At first, Dream respected it. He  _ could  _ see how crushing it would be to leave everyone behind. But that’s not the Tommy he knew. The Tommy he knew would use that fire in his chest to start a revolution. Not have it put out by his own stupid consequences. 

“He just needs some blue.” Wilbur says one night. Tommy is fast asleep, as he has been for most of the day. Except he’s tucked into Wilbur’s bed now. The storm outside was too much for him to bear and he ended up arriving, soaked, at the ghost’s front door. Dream was sitting in the corner of the kitchen when it happened. Tommy didn’t even acknowledge him. He simply let Wibur coddle him before he was tucked into bed. “Yes…” Wilbur looks at his closed bedroom door concerningly, “more blue.” 

Dream rolled his eyes at that. Wilbur was a saint for doing whatever the ghosts' best was. But Dream was getting bored. He wanted resistance. He wanted Tommy to push his limits and get himself in trouble. 

Dream wants a mouse to chase. 

He burns Tommy’s bed the next day. The boy yells at him, angry and annoyed and  _ pained.  _ He looks so desperate and tired. Dream can’t fight satisfaction from it all. Wilbur is confused. Especially when Tommy ruins the fun by bursting into angry sobs. Then, like always, he’s there to comfort the boy. Handing him his infamous  _ blue. _

“That was a bit rude.” Wilbur says with a frown. He’s staring at Dream with a puzzled expression. “Why are you being rude to Tommy? He just wants to have a vacation.” 

Dream hums. “Tommy needs to have fun for it to be a vacation, Wilbur. I was only trying to help.”

Wilbur’s eyes widen. Something clicks in his muddled mind and he grins. “Oh! Tommy that’s wonderful. Why are you crying, come on. Dream wants you to have fun on your vacation!” 

“This isn’t- Wilbur, this isn’t fun! I’m miserable.” Tommy gasps out. He looks so small from where he’s hunched on the ground. Dream would take pity if he wasn’t so annoyed. “Please just.. I want to go home.” 

“No.” Dream says with a shrug. 

Tommy’s face curls in pain and he puts his head in his hands with a sob. Wilbur frowns again. Dream is getting really sick of having to dance around the dead man. If he were to outwardly be violent to Tommy, he’s pretty sure the ghost would implode- Or strangle Dream with his freezing hands. He figures he’ll owe Tommy that- Keeping the peace on a less threatening note while Wilbur is around. 

“Tommy.” Dream begins. “I only wanted you to get out more. You’ve been in bed for weeks on end. You need to do something. It was for your own good.” 

Wilbur seems to like that statement. He nods adamantly in support of Dream. “Yes, Tommy! We can start building some more things! I collected a lot of supplies from mining, but I’m sure you’ll want more when you start.” 

Tommy sniffs. He looks tired and sad still, but his head raises ever so slightly. “You did it to help me?” 

Dream tilts his head. Oh, Tommy. So young and impressionable. He just wants to go home and Dream is the only person stopping him. “Of course I did. What would I gain from hurting you, Tommy? You’re already exiled, the harm has been done.” 

The boy flinches at that. His arms wrap around himself insecurely, but he gives a small nod. “Yeah, sure. I guess.” He says weakly, then to Wilbur quietly; “I need food.” 

Wilbur nods immediately at that, his semi-transparent arms wrapping around his brother to help him up from the ground. Dream watches as the pair slowly make their way to Logstedshire. Wilbur turns back to look at him for a moment and there’s a flash of the man Dream new before the war. Something wild and cold stares at Dream as Wilbur ushers Tommy into the wooden walls of their home. 

_ Interesting _ , Dream thinks amusingly. 

-

  
  


“Have some bread as well.” Wilbur says gently, placing a few slices of warm bread beside Tommy’s bowl of soup. The boy is eating slowly, small spoonfuls at a time. It's heartbreaking. Wilbur can’t remember much of how he was before he died, but he remembers taking care of his brother. He remembers being there for him when Phil or Techno went off on adventures- It’s his job to care for Tommy. That’s what he knows the best. 

Tommy, despite the little energy he has, gives Wilbur a small smile. The teen takes the bread and dips it into the bowl. Wilbur can’t help the proud smile that forms as he watches the boy take a bite. 

“You should sleep here again. I made a new bed, it's a lot comfier than the old one.” Wilbur says happily. He brings out some of his blue and hands it absentmindedly to Tommy who takes it without a second thought. “I could tell you a story!” 

Tommy pauses and looks to his brother in surprise. “A story?”

“Yeah!” Wilbur floats up from his seat and glides lazily into the air above Tommy. “I’ve been writing down ones that I knew when I was alive… Back when you were smaller. They’re a little… jumbled, but I think it's do-able.”

Tommy looks a bit bewildered now. His spoon is being held tightly in his hand. Wilbur isn’t sure why Tommy wouldn’t be excited for this. He tilts his head questioningly, “Tommy?”

“Uh,” he blinks a few times, as if he were coming back to the present, “I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know?” Wilbur asks with a frown. “Please? I’ve been saving them for you.”

Tommy drops his spoon back into the bowl and crosses his arms. He doesn’t look defensive. He looks sad… He always looks so sad now. “It's been a long time since… Since you told me a story, Wilbur.” 

“Really? You’re only sixteen, Tommy. It can’t have been that long ago…” 

“Huh.” Tommy says quietly, shrinking into himself a bit. “I guess I am sixteen.” 

Wilbur, sensing the sudden flood of sadness over his brother, floats back to the ground and gently collects the boys’ food to save for later. “Here.” Wilbur hands Tommy a small vial of healing potion.

“Where did you get this?” Tommy asks, his eyes a bit wide as he takes it from Wilbur’s hands. 

Wilbur grins, “L’manburg! I went back when you were sleeping a few nights ago. I had to collect a few of my things for our vacation.” 

Tommy nods slowly, but doesn’t say anything more. He drinks the potion in one quick motion, making a face at the bitter taste. Wilbur sees the bit of tension in his face and body fade away. “Thanks, Will.” 

“You’re welcome, Tommy.” Wilbur says happily. “Now let's get you to bed.” 

“Wilbur.” Tommy says abruptly, “Do you think Dream is… justified?”

Wilbur tilts his head. “Justified?” 

“For exiling me, treating me the way he is… Hurting me.” Tommy looks away awkwardly. “I feel like I deserve it… and when I do something and he gets mad, I feel so guilty. Like I betrayed my best friend, or something.” 

Wilbur feels something odd develop in his chest. He isn’t quite sure what it is and it makes him shift uncomfortably. But Tommy looks so upset and conflicted. “I think… I think Dream is trying his best to be a good friend. But good friends don’t hurt you. How is he hurting you, Tommy?”

Tommy bites his lip nervously. “He… Wilbur, he destroyed our beds. He took me away from Tubbo. He takes my armour. You aren’t around when he does, but he hurts me if I don’t comply with him.” Tommy shrinks in a little further. Wilbur feels something burning in his throat. “He’s the only one that visits me.. Besides you. You and him are the only people I see right now and I feel like… If I don’t listen to him then he’ll go away too. I don’t want to be alone, Wilbur.”

“Tommy.” Wilbur says gently. “Lets go to bed. I’ll tell you that story.”

“But-”

Wilbur reaches out to ruffle his brothers’ hair. “Come on.” 

Tommy falls asleep instantly. Wilbur makes sure of it, staying by his side for as long as possible as he gently recites what is written in his diary. A tale about a family hidden deep within the woods. Of small streams filled with fish and flower fields to run in. Of small children playing in the sand of a nearby ocean and using sticks to sword fight.

Tommy’s blue glows with a low hum above his head. It circles around slowly. Wilbur watches, satisfied that it's working properly. 

He feels a bit guilty for not answering Tommy’s questions. But that terrible feeling in his chest solidifies something that he was suspicious of. He leaves Tommy and heads from Logstedshire to L’manburg. The blue should keep his brother asleep peacefully, considering how upset he was today. 

Tubbo greets him happily. The boy is up late and swaddled in his blankets from where he sits at his desk. Wilbur remembers the day Tubbo was brought to their home. Tommy, although a bit confused at first, was elated to have someone around who was his age. Wilbur remembers finding the two fast asleep under the stars, laying side by side in the grass just behind their home. It was a common occurrence for the pair. 

“Hello Tubbo, I have a question.” Wilbur says, floating into the boys’ office and hovering around the ceiling. Tubbo looks up at him with a grin. 

“Ask away!”

“Why is Dream allowed to hurt Tommy?” Wilbur asks curiously. “I have always seen Dream being nice to him, but Tommy told me Dream hurts him.”

Tubbo’s smile fades slowly. He goes a bit rigid, similar to Tommy. The blanket over his shoulders slides off. “Dream is.. Hurting him?” 

Wilbur nods. “Yes. I know I said I haven’t been around for it, but I believe Tommy. I don’t like when he’s hurt, Tubbo. My blue only does so much and even then he just looks so tired and  _ sad. _ ”

Tubbo looks confused. Wilbur feels the same. “Tommy says he isn’t allowed in L’manburg anymore, but Dream told me it was a vacation. Can he really not come back?”

“Wilbur,” Tubbo begins shakily, “You should go back to Tommy.” 

Wilbur floats back toward the ground at the request. His shoulders sink. “Are you not going to answer my questions?”

Tubbo closes his eyes and sighs. “No, I don’t think I can. But you should go. Keep Tommy company, please.” 

Wilbur feels disappointed at not getting anywhere with his adopted brother, but decides to respect the boys’ wishes nonetheless. “Ok, Tubbo. I’m going to grab a few things from my home, if you want to join me?” 

Tubbo declined his offer in the end and Wilbur leaves him alone, feeling much more conflicted than he did before he arrived. But he gathers supplies and packs it into an ender chest, as well as his person. He feels a bit anxious now as he picks up his pace. Tubbo’s words echo insistently in his mind. He needs to be with Tommy. He can’t afford to leave him alone anymore, not after what he was told. 

  
  


-

  
  


It smells like apples. 

Tommy opens his eyes slowly. Wilbur’s bedroom is dim from the early morning light. He feels warm under the blankets and it makes him curl under them a little tighter. He has half the mind to go back to sleep. Wilbur wouldn’t be mad at him for it. He would probably bring him food a few times, maybe sit and write like he usually does when Tommy sleeps. But Dream wouldn’t like it. He would break his things again and Wilbur worked so hard to make them. 

The bedroom door opens and the sudden aroma for apples thickens. Tommy turns to see his brother standing with a plate in his hands. He looks shocked to see Tommy awake. 

“Oh! Good morning! I made apple tarts… Niki’s recipe.” 

“You saw Niki?” Tommy asks as he sits up. 

“No.” Wilbur says as he passes Tommy the food. “But I wrote it down one night in my journal and found it this morning, I thought you would want to try.” 

Tommy smiles gratefully, “Thank you, Wilbur.” 

It's probably the best thing he’s eaten in awhile. It's sweet and creamy and the apples are warm. It reminds him sickeningly of Niki and he finds he misses the older girl a lot. She hasn’t visited him either. 

“Good?” Wilbur asks. He’s standing patiently with an expectant look on his face. Tommy nods, shoving more of the pastry into his mouth as a sign of good grace to his brother. Wilbur smiles happily. 

“I think we should work on a farm today. I can handle animals and you can work on harvesting? If you want.” Wilbur sits on the edge of the bed and brings out his journal. It looks ready to fall apart, but Tommy wouldn’t dare say that. 

“That sounds nice.” Tommy agrees, “We don’t have seeds though.”

“I have some!” Wilbur says, “Technoblade gave them to me as a gift.”

Tommy’s head whips to Wilbur instantly at the name. “He what?”

Wilbur pauses, thrown off by his brother's hostile tone. “He gifted them to me... In case I needed them. It was a while ago but I figured now is the best time-”

“We are not using those.” Tommy says harshly. 

“Tommy.”

“I said  _ no _ , Wilbur.” 

The two stare at each other for a moment. He wordlessly hands Tommy more blue. The teen stares at it stubbornly. His shoulders fall from their tense position as he takes the substance from his brother. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I’m sure we’ll find new seeds that we can use. It’s okay, Tommy.” Wilbur says with a smile. 

Tommy nods his head weakly. Wilbur goes to reading through his journal as Tommy finishes eating. It's peaceful, despite the tension in Tommy’s chest. He hopes Dream doesn’t arrive today. Today feels like it could be alright. Wilbur has assigned him a task, something to do. It's collaborative and involves focus. Tommy can do that. He thinks of the different ways he’ll want his farm to look. But it depends on where he decides to settle it. 

Wilbur is taking his empty plate before he even realizes. “I’ll wait for you outside!” He says enthusiastically before closing the bedroom door behind him. 

Tommy remains seated in bed for a little while longer. Pushing away any terrified thoughts of Dream or Tubbo. He doesn’t want to drag Wilbur down any longer, not when he’s so excited to do something today. Instead, he thinks about this new farm. He pulls himself out of bed with a new found determination. 

Then he hears it. 

A low whistle.

It’s muffled through Wilburs home, but it hits Tommy like a bullet to the chest. His rigid determination is all of a sudden shaken with unbelievable fear. He glances around the room frantically amidst his panic, searching for anything to defend himself— _ as if you can take him.  _

“Tommy?” Wilbur knocks gently on the door before opening it. He abruptly pauses in the doorway. Tommy is standing with a pillow in hand, raised as if ready to strike. Wilbur’s head tilts in confusion, “Tommy what are you doing?”

Tommy blinks. His beating heart feels like it’s going to burst. He can’t breathe well all of a sudden. Wilbur smiles wearily at him, “Are you alright?” 

Another whistle. It’s so taunting and  _ disgusting _ . Tommy wants to vomit. “I… I’m uh..” Tommy drops the pillow back onto the bed and clasps his hands together tightly. He begins to rub and twist them anxiously. “Sorry, Wilbur. I… Is Dream here already? Is he outside?” 

Wilbur turns and leaves to where Tommy assumes is to the front door. Wilbur shouts back moments later; “He’s heading toward the beach!” 

Tommy closes his eyes. His mind keeps swimming with fear. He feels dizzy and weak. The temptation to climb in bed and hide away takes him over. Then he remembers the tattered and burnt beds, the tnt exploding his belongings. His ears that rang from the explosions. 

The sudden urge to leave Wilbur’s home strikes him with urgency and he immediately pulls on his shoes. Wilbur is standing outside already, the front door is wide open due to his absentmindedness. He’s crouched in the grass, studying what looks to be a ladybug as it crawls across a leaf. Tommy slams the door shut as he steps up to his brother. 

“Right!” He says, shoving away his fear with false excitement, “Ready to farm?” 

Wilbur smiles widely. “I have several plans for a farm! I think we should try a new water system. Technoblade showed me one of his favorites and I think it will work well for us-!”

“Tommy!” Dreams voice yells from above. He’s standing on the very top of the walls surrounding them. His hands are in his hoodie pockets, his mask covering the majority of his face- as usual. Tommy’s eyes narrow bitterly. “It’s good to see you up!” 

Wilbur makes a noise of agreement and Tommy can’t help but glare at his dead brother. “Isn’t it great, Dream? He’s got so much energy today!” 

“It is great, Wilbur!” Dream shouts back and Tommy can spot the grin on the man’s face from where he stands. “It’s good to see him back to his old self again.” 

Tommy wants so badly to bite out a nasty remark. He wants to take a sword or an axe or  _ anything  _ and treat Dream the way he treats Tommy. He wants Dream dead. 

He knows the man is looking at him. Waiting for that quick witted response. Tommy refuses to give him that- not when he’s taken so much from Tommy already.

Instead, Tommy turns his head back to Wilbur and smiles up at the man. “Let’s get to work, Wilbur.” 


	2. king

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW:  
> this chapter deals heavily with manipulation and it's more out there than the first one so please be advised before reading! 
> 
> for those who cannot handle the CW:  
> This chapter is in the POV of George as he is in Eret's castle, still crowned King. Its been a while after Tommy's exile. He has a distaste for the castle, despite it being a gift from Dream; his best friend. He feels guilty about this, and refuses to tell Dream his discomfort in fear of upsetting him. Dream visits George and they discuss what's happening in L'manburg. George is somewhat of an inside man for Dream when he's away with Tommy. Dream asks about Tubbo, whom George has not seen. However he does mention Alex (Quackity) and his plans for the Butcher Army. Dream thinks its reckless to go after someone as strong as Technoblade. George then brings up Tubbo and insinuates that the two should discuss bringing Tommy from exile. George has forgiven Tommy, but its obvious that dream has not. Dream claims to want a family, but George knows you can't have a family when Dream has done what he has. They argue, and Dream guilts George into thinking he's a terrible friend for accusing Dream. George is left alone in the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> context!  
> Dream mentioned in a stream that he wants everyone to be a family, but his plans ended up going wrong and now he has to fix it somehow.. whatever that "somehow" means. So ask and you shall receive :) also I know the timelines are kinda spaced out and wonky, It will come together after the Butcher Army, it all depends on how the SMP members progress the story as well. 
> 
> this chapter is kinda short, but I wanted to make sure important people are highlighted, especially in terms of those close to Dream and those who are not.

George hated the castle. 

It’s empty and huge and the throne is uncomfortable. Odd winds drift in every now and then and he could never find where they came from. The crown was too heavy, not at all made for him, and the hand-me-downs from Eret were too small and not at all his style. It was unbearable. But he couldn’t let Dream know that. 

Not when his friend had welcomed him to the castle with an enthusiastic twang. George hadn’t seen much of that in a while, so he kept silent. Accepted the grand gesture with gratitude, even if it was  _ too  _ grand. Now it's dark out and the wine bottle in his hands hangs loosely over the side of the throne. It clunks against the gold and stone framing, echoing throughout the grand hall. Everything inside the structure is just so  _ lonely _ . George runs a frustrated hand through his hair, wondering bitterly how on earth Eret had not gone insane.

“Had enough, Your Majesty?”

His head tilts back against the seat at the voice of his friend. Dream is leant against the large open window. The soft light of the torches illuminates him against the darkness. George scoffs and tilts the bottle toward the masked man, “Cheers.” he says monotonously. 

“Oh, come on.” Dream says and jumps down gracefully. He stops at the stairs of the platform where the throne sits upon. “You can’t be this down. Not when you have an entire kingdom in your palm.” 

George narrows his eyes. The wine has started to ease its way into the corners of his mind. Biting and vile words are pushing at his lips. He wants to yell. 

“You saw Tommy today, didn’t you?” he asks instead.

“I see him on occasion, yes.” Dream replies, stepping up the stairs carelessly. “Is that an issue,  _ Your Majesty. _ ”

George scoffs, looking away in annoyance. “Stop calling me that.” 

“That’s your title.” 

  
  


“You’re the  _ only one  _ who calls me that.” George retorts. He drinks from the bottle again, it's gone a bit warm but he doesn’t care. Dream stops a few steps below him, tilting his head curiously. 

“Should I-”

“No, you shouldn’t make everyone call me that. Thank you.”

“I was going to ask if I should stop.” Dream says amusingly. He chuckles a bit when George rolls his eyes. “Why don’t you like it?”

George sinks lower into the throne and lazily cradles the bottle in his lap. “It’s weird. I don’t like it… It makes me feel like I’m higher than everyone.” 

“You  _ are _ , George. You’re a King.” Dream says, as if George hadn’t realized it. 

_ I don’t want to be.  _

He swallows it down and closes his eyes. He senses Dream closer now, standing directly in front of him. “I get it though,” Dream begins. 

George opens his eyes in interest. 

“It takes some getting used to. I gave you a lot of responsibility with little time, I’m sorry.” And he seems so sincere in the apology that George finds himself feeling nauseous with guilt. His best friend only wanted to give him a gift. Dream just wanted to make George happy and here he is  _ complaining _ . 

George looks away, although there’s not much to hide from when all he sees is an emotionless mask. “You’re right, it’s… It’s just been odd. Thank you, I don’t think I've said that enough. This was a great present, Dream.” 

The lie feels too heavy and wrong as he says it. It could be the alcohol. Making his thoughts dizzy and cheeks hot. He wants to lay down. 

“Hey.” Dream reaches up and in a single motion his mask slides off into his hands. George feels his tension fade a bit at the familiar face. “It's fine, really. We’ll figure it out.” he smiles. 

George stares at him for a moment. It will probably be a while before he sees his friend’s face again. He has new scars that George doesn’t remember being there before the war. It must have hurt. “Take a picture.” Dream snorts. 

“What?” George asks, jerking himself from his stare. 

“I said, take a picture. It’ll last longer.” Dream reaches forward to take the wine from George’s hands, taking a sip of his own. 

“Why would I do that.” George scoffs, crossing his arms stubbornly. 

Dream gives him a pointed look. “You were drooling over me just now… I’ll sign it toot- a Dream original.” 

George shakes his head. “You’re an idiot.” 

Dream grins. He reels his arm back and tosses the empty wine bottle through the window. George hears the distant sound of it breaking. “Have you seen Tubbo?”

There it is. 

George had a suspicion that he was here for information, like always. They could banter all they want, but Dream is playing a game right now and George is the only one in his corner willing to help. He’s more than a pawn to Dream. He’s the King. 

“No, but Alex told me they’ve been busy with other things.”

Dream sits on the armrest of the throne and leans back against the seat. “Busy with what? They have an entire country to run.”

“The army against Technoblade.” George answers. He closes his eyes as he talks. The wine is making him tired all of a sudden. It's pulling at his bones and weighing him down. “They want to hunt him down and bring him in.” 

Dream hums. “Interesting… But reckless.” 

“How is that reckless?” 

“Think about who they're targeting.” Dream says, “Technoblade is good. They won’t stand a chance against him.”

“Alex mentioned Phil.” George supplies. 

This piques Dream’s interest. He turns to George with a raised brow, but noticing his friend's meditative state, he rolls his eyes and turns away. “That.. could be something worth watching. I doubt they would get anything from him though.” 

“I don’t know.” George sighs, “Alex looked pretty blood thirsty. I think they could pull it off.” 

Dream hums again, but he doesn't say anything more. George knows he disagrees from that alone. “You should talk to Tubbo, Dream.”

“I plan to.” 

“No,” George says. He opens his eyes slowly and looks up at his friend. “ _ Talk to him _ .” 

Dream’s face falls instantly. “I’m not letting Tommy come back.” 

“Tubbo is devastated-”

“That’s not my problem.” 

“-He only leaves his office when he’s needed. I don’t care much but… He’s a kid, Dream. Both of them are and you pulled them away from each other over-”

“He burnt your home down, George.”

“I forgave him! It’s been long enough, things have cooled down. What more do you want? He was reckless, but he’s a kid.”

Dream stands from his spot on the arm rest sharply. George jerks back in surprise at the sudden movement. He watches as his friend walks down the stairs. 

“Dream!” He calls after him, standing as well. 

“I want them to know they can’t just  _ do  _ whatever they want.” Dream bites out as he spins around. “Schlatt was the only time they banned together, it was the only time where everyone was.. a family.” 

George stops completely at that. 

  
“What?” He asks breathlessly. 

Dream sighs, his shoulders dropping. “I want this to be a family, we’re supposed to be. Family doesn’t hurt each other.” 

George stares at him in disbelief. Of all the things, George would never have assumed this is Dream’s motive. It sounds like an excuse. A terrible lie that George feels disgusted at. 

“Dream… Family doesn’t  _ do  _ what you do.” He says slowly. 

“We’d all kill each other if It wasn’t for me!” 

“You-” George has to stop himself. His hands rub at his face in frustration. “This is not  _ fair _ . You are controlling everyone because you- what? Want to play house? You are doing more harm than good right now and you know that.” 

Dream scoffs and looks away. 

A sudden realization hits George. “You do… Don’t you.” He makes his ways down the platform slowly. “You’re doing everything you can to control the mess you’ve made. You messed up, Dream.” 

“George.” Dream warns. 

“Fix it.” George urges. He stops in front of Dream and grabs his arm firmly. “The right way.” 

“I’m not doing anything.” Dream says slowly. It feels more dangerous than when he yells. When he’s outwardly upset. George narrows his eyes challengingly.

  
  


“Speak to him.” George repeats, colder this time. “Or I will step down as King.” 

A flicker of surprise passes through Dream’s face. For a moment, George feels satisfied. He made it through the front that his friend was presenting. He cracked the code to the puzzle that Dream has been dangling in front of him. 

Then, Dream steps back. George’s hand falls to his side. “Go ahead.” he says.

George blinks. “What?”

“Do it. Step down.” George watches as he puts on his mask again. The white material stares at George tauntingly as the man backs away. “I’m sure Tubbo will gladly help you find new lodgings.” 

“Dream-”

“I’m not stupid.” Dream says bitterly. “I know you hated this. I know you lie every time I visit. You never drank that much before being here- It is so  _ obvious _ .” 

George’s mouth opens to say something. Anything to fight back. But the sudden confrontation leaves him guilty and embarrassed. 

“I tried to do something nice and you didn’t even want to be honest with me. And now-”

“Stop it-”

“Now you think I’m some psycho that wants to control everyone?”

“Dream I never said that.”

“What are you saying then?!” He shouts. It echoes. It makes George flinch. His body jerks back at the noise. It was so aggressive and hostile. Dream never spoke to him like that. “You’re my best friend, George. I thought you would be the last person on earth to hate me.”

“I don’t hate you!” George exclaims. He feels desperate all of a sudden. “Stop twisting things!”

“Oh  _ I’m  _ twisting things.” Dream scoffs and it hits George like a knife to his chest. He feels panicked, like Dream will leave him forever. This isn’t supposed to happen. “This really hurts George. After everything I’ve done for you.” 

George feels dizzy. This isn’t right. He shouldn’t feel guilty right now, he shouldn’t feel like crying either. He’s frustrated and confused and Dream looks so angry. He isn’t sure what to say or do anymore. 

Dream leaves. 

George is left alone and cold in the grand hall. He is protected and sheltered. 

As a King should be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should be Techno and Phil related but honestly might change. Thank you all so much for the kind comments, I look forward to writing more !! 
> 
> Happy New Year ! Stay safe and healthy in 2021 <3


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no CW for this chapter! However, if you do find anything mildly concerning or in need of a warning, please comment or message me at @karljc6bs on twitter :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is probably the longest chapter so far... 4.5k words.
> 
> I also want to say; if you are in the U.S currently, like me, than you have seen what recently happened. Please stay safe, as well as those close to you. If this update gives you any sort of distraction, than I'm happy to provide that. Remember, it is never a bad thing to protect your mental health during concerning times like this. However, please spread awareness where you can and educate yourself on matters that are important, as well as those around you.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Technoblade stares at the map in his hands with a blank expression. There’s a lot he can be patient with. He farmed potatoes for years in the hopes of winning some petty, neighborly competition in another Realm. He hunted down wanted men for  _ months  _ for a healthy stack of coins. But this-  _ this-  _ was his breaking point. 

He lets out a frustrated groan and tears the parchment in half. His nostrils flaring in agitation. The enchanted shreds flutter to the snow covered ground and fade into the air. Techno rolls his eyes and pushes away the loose strands of his hair. With a swift turn he heads back the way he came- back home. 

He should have known this treasure hunt was a waste of time. Phil is going to  _ love  _ this. The moment Techno will walk in he’ll immediately hear his fathers god awful laugh and have to endure the “I told you so's from the old man. A sudden wind picks up around him, brushing the tops of the trees and causing small chunks of snow to fall around him as he walks through the forest. 

He could be gathering resources right now. He had villagers that needed to be traded with and Netherite that needed to be harvested- although Phil must have beaten him to it by now. An onslaught of negative thoughts filter around his mind. By the time he’s made it back home, there’s a scowl deeply engraved on his face and its pitch black outside. 

Carl is standing in his stall. A fresh bed of hay and a new pale of water is already placed there for him. Techno reaches a gloved hand out to his horse, who nudges his palm gently. It's almost comforting, the way Carl huffs gently into his hand. Technoblade smiles at the action. He pats Carl’s neck twice before turning toward his front door. 

It's warm when he walks in. It smells faintly of meat and potatoes. Phil is sitting at the table, boots kicked up on the wood. His axe is in his hand, along with a sharpening tool. He pauses his actions to look up as Techno closes the door behind him. 

“Welcome back! Any luck?” He asks joyfully. 

Techno sniffs and unclips his robe. He hangs it by the door. “None.” 

Phil lets out a hearty laugh. “Told you! Come ‘ere and sit, I’m making stew.” 

“I am not  _ eating  _ where your feet have previously been.” Technoblade grunts out. He drags out a chair from the dinner table and positions it in front of the fire. 

Phil rolls his eyes, but slowly plants his feet onto the wooden floor as he remarks under his breath; “Since when did that matter.”

“Trade anything today?” Techno asks instead, kicking off his snow clad boots and watching them land near the fire. He pulls at his gloves next and revels in the warmth that meets his semi-freezing hands. 

“No, actually. I spent most of the day inside. I figured while you were out  _ exploring- _ ”

Techno sends him a glare over his shoulder. 

“-That I would take the opportunity to relax.” Phil continues, ignoring his son's obvious agitation. 

“Whatever, Phil.” Techno sighs, leaning back into the chair tiredly. He regrets not doing everything he could have today. All of the things he could do, gone to waste over some stupid map. 

“Did you at least enjoy the scenery… Since the loot was a bust, apparently.” Phil asks. Although Techno can feel that  _ thing _ he’s doing. Something he’s done since Techno was a kid. He never had a word for it, it was just this  _ thing  _ that Phil does and it always ended with Techno either yelling at him or them talking for hours on end about whatever was bothering Technoblade. 

He sinks a bit further into the chair and closes his eyes. His legs stretch out wide and he wiggles his feet against fire. “I didn’t pay attention to the scenery.” 

The chair Phil is sitting on scrapes against the floor and Techno can hear him walking toward the stove. “I see. Too busy mulling over your inherent failures of the day?” 

Techno frowns and opens his eyes. He turns his head to see his father scooping food into two bowls. “I don’t appreciate when you know what i’m thinking.” Techno says without much annoyance in his tone. At this point, he feels all his negative energy being drained by the warmth of his home.  _ Sleeping sounds nice right now,  _ He thinks _. _

“It’s called fatherly instinct or whatever.” Phil passes him a bowl filled with stew. Sliced carrots sit at the top, along with potatoes and beef. “I just  _ know. _ ”

Techno gives his father a pointed look as he takes the bowl. Phil only shrugs, “You can choose to believe me or not… But I think you’d rather tell me why you feel like this.” 

Technoblade thinks about it. He could. There’s really nothing preventing that at the moment, what with how close they’ve become while Phil helps him adjust to retirement. But Techno sips at the broth of the stew, feels the fire's warmth surrounding him, and shakes his head. He felt bad today,  _ sure _ . But he feels better now. 

“Nah, I’m ok. It’s just good to be home.” He says with a shrug. 

Phil, seemingly pleased with the response, nods and plops back down in his own chair. They eat in silence, as usual. If they ever do speak, it's about new contraptions that they’ve started to develop. Maybe future plans for Techno’s home, or Phil’s back in L’manburg. But the fire’s constant pops and cracks fill in the conversation for today. It's nice. It feels like retirement. 

“Do you think Tommy’s arlight?” 

Oh. 

Something stills in that moment. Technoblade feels something uneasy settle in his throat. It's conflicting and it shouldn’t be. Not when it's about his little brother. 

“I’m sure Dream is taking good care of him.” Techno says instead, eating the rest of his food with great caution. But Phil isn’t pleased with the answer. 

“We should visit him. It would be good, I think. He’s been gone for so long, the company would do him good…” Phil glances around the room before standing and making his way toward one of the many chests that line the walls. “We could bring a gift!” 

“Phil…” Techno begins weakly. He’s unsure of how to say that he doesn’t want to visit Tommy- He  _ can’t  _ visit Tommy. Not when guilt weighs so heavy in his chest that he feels suffocated. “I think I’m gonna head to bed now. I traveled pretty far.” 

“You? Travel exhaustion?” Phil turns to him with a suspicious look. “That is something that just does not  _ occur  _ with you.” 

This is true. Techno has too much experience under his belt. Maybe it was a terrible excuse, but he does feel tired. And now, with the mention of Tommy, he feels that exhaustion pulling heavily on his bones. “It’s just been a long day.” He says and stands from his seat, “Goodnight, Phil.” 

Phil stares at him suspiciously. “You did something wrong to him-”

Technoblade shakes his head and makes for his room. “I’m not doing this now.”

Phil steps in his way. “-You did something wrong and he is angry at you for it and you feel like  _ shit  _ because of it. You need to apologize. He’s your brother, Techno. I won’t stand for you causing a rift like this.” 

“Me? My hand was  _ forced _ , Phil! I had no other choice but to take Tubbos life. They would have killed me and I-” 

“Enough!” Phil shouts. His voice booms over Techno entirely, making him step back a bit in surprise. 

It's silent. Tense and unnerving, the two staring at each other stubbornly. Phil sighs, his shoulders falling in defeat. He looks like a tired old man. “I’m trying to be a good dad right now, Techno.” he says weakly, “I know things are complicated. I know you two might go at eachothers throats right now- But for  _ me… _ At least try.” 

Technoblade feels his guilt double now. But that tension in his chest pulls tight and he crosses his arms defensively. “What if Tommy refuses to accept my apology?” 

Phil sighs at this and turns away. “Then we try again. Things can’t be as they were, but they can be better than they are now.” 

Technoblade doesn’t feel confident with that answer. Nothing can be better, not now. Not when he’s in hiding, his two kid brothers are exiling and hating each other, and his twin brother is… well… dead. He feels hopeless. He cares about his family, but the things that happened not too long ago are fresh wounds and he inflicted a lot. 

Techno goes to bed. He sleeps until the afternoon, where he wakes up to a note on his kitchen table. Phil went off to L’manburg to work on his home for the time being. He wishes Techno would think about what he said, even if it is a bit selfish. 

_ It is, _ Techno thinks bitterly as he tosses the note back onto the table. It’s selfish to show up after years and expect things to be okay because  _ he  _ says so. It's selfish to expect Tommy to not be hurt by the things Techno has done. 

He remembers going on his first hunt with his dad. He was thirteen. His odd powers; the voices, had made themselves known only a year ago and they nagged at the young boy for hours on end. Demanding blood, violence,  _ destruction _ . Phil handled it as well as any angel of chaos would- He taught his son how to fight. 

Technoblade thinks he could have done a little better in the emotional trauma aspect of it all, But he understands. It was scary for everyone. But all Techno learned was how to use the voices. He never learned how to cope afterwards. It left him numb for sometime, especially during his assassin days. The killing eased the violence of the voices for a while. 

It was farming that he met the more  _ humane  _ side of The Voices. They would calm down. Their muttering was never of blood when he worked under the sun. It was hushed echoes of his own thoughts, sometimes providing answers themselves for his train of thought. They became comforting. 

_ Dad. Phil, Phil, Phil.. Bad.. Good...Tommy, help Tommy. Help. Help- _

Techno ignores them. 

  
  
  
  


**-0-**

  
  


The farm stretched far enough that you would have to squint. The design of it was perfect, flawless even. Tommy would never admit that though, especially when it was from Technoblade. But Wilbur filled that excitement for the both of them. 

“Look how fast the carrots are growing!” The ghost gushed after a few weeks of them planting. He dug up a semi-premature carrot, holding it out to Tommy for the teen to inspect. Tommy didn’t didn’t know much about agriculture, but he knew enough to feel a sense of pride in their labor. 

“It looks great, Wilbur. Are you going to make stew?” He asks, wiping away the sweat that formed on his brow and around his neck. They had been out tending to weeds for most of the day and the summer heat had not been kind. 

Wilbur nods firmly, “I’ll use the few ripe ones for now, but once we harvest I'll make as much as possible.” 

“Sounds great big man.” Tommy says as he squats down. He pulls off his gloves and reaches a hand into the soil. He grabs a handful and rolls it around his palm. “We’ll need to water it some more, the sun is drying the fertilizer out.” 

Wilbur hums in agreement, seemingly too preoccupied with his carrots to bother. Tommy doesn’t mind, he’s used to his brother's forgetfulness by now. “I’ll be back Wilbur.” He says before standing. He puts his gloves back on as he walks toward Logstedshire. The thought of making himself a hat crosses his mind, maybe that will help keep the heat at bay for a moment. As he approaches his new home, he hears the faint hum of the portal a few feet away. He pauses, turning to stare at it. 

The portal has been a taunting being the past few months of his exile. He’s only ever allowed when Dream is with him. He can’t even go near the portal to L’manburg. It’s purple glow never fades in the sunlight, it glows even brighter at night. He’ll sit there in front of it some nights, when Dream is nowhere to be seen. Whether it's to wait for someone, or to muster the courage to go through on his own, he isn’t sure. 

“Hello!” 

Tommy’s head jerks at the voice. Above him, leaning against a tree trunk, is Dream. Tommy feels an electric shock of dread run through his body, but he covers it with a scowl. “Go. Away.” He bites out, trudging past the man and toward Logsted. 

He hears Dream land on the ground, his footsteps following close behind. “You and Wilbur worked hard on the farm.” 

“Yeah.” Tommy says coldly, “What are ya gonna do, burn it down?” 

Dream scoffs. “Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. Probably because you have this vendetta against me and want to make my life a living hell even though I’m clearly having a  _ shit  _ time already.” Tommy retorts fast and angry. He can feel himself getting worked up. Built up resentment toward the man is coming out ten fold. He can’t afford to get in over his head, not when Dream controls his fate.

“Whatever.” Dream says casually. Tommy clenches his fists tightly in annoyance. 

The pair make it to Logstedshire where Tommy stops at their inventory. He begins rummaging through the barrels in search of buckets. He ignores the way Dream looms nearby, clearly watching every move the boy makes. Tommy finds it annoying more than intimidating. He hates it in general when people just  _ stand there  _ but when that person can take your life with no repercussion, you learn to ignore it. 

Tommy huffs. There are no buckets in sight and they are too low on iron for him to sacrifice it for another item that Wilbur will  _ eventually  _ misplace. It's too hot to go mining, and it's too hot for the crops to go another day without nutrients. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 

“Dream.” He says as calmly as he can. 

The masked man hums in response. Tommy turns to him with a pointed look, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “Do you have iron?” 

Dream’s head tilts. Tommy knows he found it amusing and it makes him want to go crazy. He’s had to depend on Dream for too much now. This farm was the one thing he did without the masked man. It was something he’s proud of. There was no way in hell Tommy will let his arrogance stop him from that. 

“I do…” Dream says, “But I want you to do something for me first.” 

Dread sets in instantly. Not the kind that he felt when he saw the masked man earlier. This one is full of fear and terror. Dread for whatever Dream has planned. If Tommy will have to sacrifice something once again to sedate Dream’s power play. He takes a weary step back, ready to run into Wilbur’s home and lock the door behind him. 

“What is it?” Tommy asks, looking past the masked man to Wilbur. The ghost is filling a sack with weeds, just as they were doing earlier. 

“Half of your harvest goes to me.” 

“ _ What _ ?”

Tommy stares at him in disbelief. Their entire harvest is supposed to last Tommy a whole winter and then some. Who knows what the conditions will be like in a month. He needs all the resources at his disposal. “I.. I can’t do that.” 

Dream shakes his head. “You can.” He says, leaving no room for Tommy to argue. “Think about it this way; It’s not all for me. A lot of this will go to L’manburg- To tubbo.” 

The mention of his friend makes him wince. The wounds he has from the betrayal of his best friend are still very open and deep, and Dream just rubbed salt into them. 

“But I-” 

“You give me half of your harvest. I give you three stacks of iron.” 

Tommy looks up at the man with wide eyes. The mask stares back blankly, it makes him feel uneasy. Tommy looks to Wilbur again. His brother is holding up an already mature beetroot, smiling wide and proud. Guilt pulls at Tommy’s chest, but he nods in agreement. Dream would have burned half of his farm if he hadn’t, he knows that. Dream would do anything to make sure Tommy  _ knew  _ he was in charge. 

“Perfect!” Dream says cheerfully. “I’ll bring you the iron tomorrow.” 

“I need it now, the crops need to be watered properly.” Tommy says urgently. 

Dream shrugs. “Not my problem. I don’t have the iron on me right now, you’ll have to wait.” 

Tommy wants to rip his hair out. That fierce ball of fire is starting to build in his chest again. Seething anger wants to fight its way out. He wants to grab his axe and swing and swing and  _ swing  _ until the man is nothing but limbs. Until his mask is bloodied and broken. But Tommy only glares. He stares at the mask with as much anger as he can. 

“Dream!” Wilbur exclaims as he enters Logstedshire. He drops the several bags of weeds onto the ground and floats toward the man happily. “Have you seen our farm?” 

“I have, Wilbur. It looks incredible.” Dream says, never turning away from Tommy. “In fact, your little brother just offered to share half with L’manburg. Isn’t that generous?” 

Wilbur turns to Tommy in surprise. “Tommy! That’s amazing, it really is generous!” 

Dream chuckles then turns away to look at the bags. “Do you need some help with these, Wilbur?” 

“Oh yes! I just take them to the Nether and chuck them into the lava. Would you like to come?” Tommy watches as his brother innocently goes back to the weeds, picking up a large sack and slinging it over his shoulder. Dream walks toward him without hesitation. “I’ll be back before dinner!” Wilbur says to Tommy, waving an enthusiastic hand in goodbye. Dream waves as well, but something in the gesture seems ill intended for Tommy alone. 

Tommy wants to scream. 

The level of emotions he’s feeling are so out of control he isn’t sure what to do. His throat tightens painfully and his eyes burn with frustrated tears. He feels suffocated and caged in like he’s being crowded into a corner with nowhere to go. He needs to leave. He needs to-

_ Tommy. _

It's dark out. No. He’s surrounded by darkness. He panics for a moment, unsure of where he is so suddenly. The idea of being teleported to the void by Dream sinks in for a moment... But he doesn’t feel as though he’s falling. In realization, he notices he’s not standing either. Instead, he’s floating. 

_ Tommy. _

The voice echoes softly around him. It's light and soothing- nurturing in a way. The darkness around him shifts and suddenly there are small, dazzling bright lights around him. “Stars?” He gasps out, staring at them in awe. 

_ You’ve been through so much. _

He turns his head in its direction. Floating far more gracefully a small distance away, is a woman. Her hair is short and Tommy can make out the subtle traces of stars in the black strands. Her eyes are glowing softly, so is the rest of her. It’s calming. Warm almost. 

“Who are you?” He asks wearily. 

_ Clara.  _ She says,  _ You needed a friend, Tommy. I’ve come to keep you company.  _

He frowns. “Did I die?”

_ No.  _

“Oh..” He looks around wearily. “Where am I?”

_ The logical answer would be space. But we aren’t, not really. _

Tommy sighs and crosses his arms. His body tilts slightly at the movement, but he doesn’t panic. He isn’t scared here. Clara has given him no reason to be scared. “Is this some sort of dream?” 

_ Yes.  _ Clara nods gently.  _ I’m afraid the heat got the best of you. _

Tommy thinks it makes sense. He must be passed out on the ground right now. Wilbur will surely lose his mind at the sight. Tommy doesn’t feel very bothered by it though. Where he’s at feels much better than Logstedshire. It feels safe and comfortable. Clara is nice. 

_ You can stay here as long as you like, Tommy. I won’t go anywhere. _

Tommy nods. “Thank you, Clara.” 

_ You’re welcome, Tommy.  _

“Do you know who Tubbo is Clara?” Tommy asks. 

She nods.  _ He’s your best friend.  _

“He is… You remind me of him.” Tommy says. He feels sad again at the mention of his friend. He misses him. He misses being in L’manburg and seeing everyone. He wants to go back so desperately it’s painful. 

_ I assume that’s a good thing… _

Tommy hums. “It is. He’s a great person. I miss him… I want to see him again.” 

_ But you can’t.  _ Clara says softly.

“I’m not  _ allowed _ .” Tommy confirms. His arms wrap around himself insecurely. “Dream would hurt me… Or someone else.” 

Clara shifts visibly where she floats.  _ Dream is not a good friend to you, Tommy. Your brother was right. _

Tommy’s head jerks up at the mention of Wilbur. “My brother?” 

_ He visits me as well.  _

“I don’t understand... Are you real? Are you-”

_ -Dead?  _ Clara laughs and it makes the hair on Tommy’s arms stand. It’s light and airy and beautiful.  _ No, I’m not dead. But your brother does visit me. But, the man I know is different. _

Tommy doesn’t understand. Clara seems to see that and smiles. Her hand raises, palm facing up. Tommy watches in awe as a replication of Wilburs blue forms in her hand.  _ The man he was before he passed. The brother you knew, filled with pain. His soul has been filled with rage.  _

“He.. talks about me?” Tommy asks. He isn’t sure what any of this means. 

_ Yes. He feels guilt toward you. He’s desperate to be forgiven.  _ The blue in her hand fades and she smiles.  _ You are similar to him.  _

Tommy looks away, scowling all of a sudden. The Wilbur he knew right up to the war, was someone lost. That wasn’t his brother. “I’m not like him… Not when he was that way.” 

Clara tilts her head curiously.  _ You are strong like him. You are determined and kind. You love like him as well. Just as he loved his country.  _

“I guess.” He grumbles. “Can you tell him that…” Tommy sees the stars fade slowly. His eyes begin the blur. “Tell him I miss him.” 

_ You seem to be waking up now, Tommy.  _ Clara says gently. The last he sees of her, is a gentle smile.

Tommy blinks his eyes open. He’s in Wilbur’s bed again. The bedroom door is open, he can see his brother standing in the kitchen, the smell of steak wafting from the stove. Tommy cries.

He chokes on a silent sob where he lays and presses his hands into his eyes. A dam that’s been blocked up for a long while has finally broken within him. He thinks of Clara and the stars in her hair. He thinks of Wilbur.. The Wilbur he knew. The man he admired so much; the man that built up his ideals and his pride--Wilbur was everything that Tommy is to this day. Wilbur broke him the day he blew up L’manburg. 

Tommy is just like him. 

A knock on the door startles him and he sits up, wiping away his tears quickly. “Tommy?”

Wilbur is holding a tray of food as he enters. A warm smile immediately graces his face as he sees the teen is awake. “Ah! How are you feeling? Drink some water, please.” 

Tommy silently takes the glass from the ghost and drinks it without hesitation. He drinks until it's empty. “Alright?” Wilbur asks. He sets the tray over Tommy’s lap. 

Tommy looks down at the food. The stew that Wilbur promised to make is steaming hot. Tommy breathes in and smells carrots, steak, and potatoes. There’s warm bread on the side and a small plate of berries for dessert. 

“Yeah.” Tommy nods, then looks up his brother with a teary smile. “I’m alright, Wilbur.” 

Wilbur smiles. “You scared me a bit. I show up and you’re just on the ground! It had Dream and I in a bit of a panic, you can imagine.” 

Tommy grabs a piece of bread and gently dips it into the stew. “I’m sorry. I think the heat just-”

“Got the better of you?”

Tommy doesn’t look up from his food. His entire body stills. Why is Dream still there. Why is Dream in Logstedshire at this time of night.  _ He wants something _ , his anxious thoughts scream.  _ He’s going to hurt you. You did something wrong. _

“Dream helped carry you in. It was very nice of him.” Wilbur says, floating above the two absentmindedly. He has some of his blue out, inspecting them as if they were diamonds. 

Dream chuckles from where he leans against the doorway. “It was no problem. Anything to help a friend.” 

Tommy wants to run. Maybe, if he was quick enough, Dream wouldn’t realize. If he ran in the middle of the night toward nowhere as a desperate attempt at escaping the man. Maybe Dream would finally give up his obsession over Tommy, let him be alone and live out his days in solitude. But Tommy can feel the man staring at him. It’s unwavering and petrifying. 

Wilbur glances between the two and frowns. “Tommy, are you tired?” 

Tommy nods robotically. He can’t bring himself to speak. 

“Ok. Dream I think you should leave.” Wilbur says cheerfully, “Tommy needs rest.” 

Dream doesn’t react. He only stares at Tommy for a few tense seconds. Wilbur’s eyes narrow slightly and he floats back to the ground. Standing between the masked man and his little brother. He smiles. “Please leave.” he says. 

“Ok.” Dream says with a sigh. “Goodnight then. I’ll see you soon, Tommy.” 

Wilbur closes the door behind the man with a slam. Tommy inhales sharply, his hands press to his face, jostling the tray in his lap. His heart is beating rapidly and he feels he may pass out again. Wilbur watches his brother for a moment in sheer curiosity and concern. 

All he can do is be there for him. 

Tommy goes to bed without eating that night. Again. 

Wilbur feels something burn in his chest. It feels dark and crude... evil almost. The blue swirling gently over Tommy’s head picks up in pace for a brief moment. 

Wilbur sees a glimpse of a sword and blood, before it fades to normal. 


	4. pawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George has conversations with some varying people, and we get a glimpse into Tubbo.

He hasn’t slept in days. There’s a very thick veil of exhaustion pulling at his bones and weighing on his eyelids. His vision blurs so often that he fears he may need glasses and the thought alone annoys him. Another issue that needs to be dealt with; another burden. He rubs at his eyes and stares mindlessly at the grand hall doors.

He doesn’t care much for the royal stuff. It’s annoying and takes up his time. Tubbo didn’t even have an opportunity to decline. It was a royal demand- he was bound by country to attend the meeting. He hadn’t even thought George took his role this serious. He slouches further into the plush waiting chair and suppresses a loud groan. He thinks about the new states applying to govern under L’manburg. The issue with his cabinet and their blood lust for Technoblade. He thinks about the Dream issue and how on earth he is going to maintain this deal without going insane. 

He briefly thinks of Tommy. 

The doors open. 

As they part, he slowly gets a full picture of George sitting on his throne. He looks prestigious. Glowering down from the platform, staring directly at Tubbo expectantly. The boy frowns. He respects George, but the man has done nothing for him or L’manburg. He’s a neutral force in this arrangement, he knows. But, my god, he could at least do  _ something _ interesting.

Tubbo sighs and slowly stands from the seat. He takes his time, straightening his clothing, before walking into the grand hall. The doors slowly close behind him. 

“You look terrible.” The king comments. 

Tubbo snorts but there is little amusement behind it. “Good morning to you too, George.” 

The King sighs and crosses one leg over the other. He looks bored. A rush of hot agitation floods through Tubbo. He shoves his hands into his pockets, clenching them into fists bitterly. 

“So.” Tubbo says as casually as he can. “Why have I been called by His Majesty?”

George’s head snaps toward him sharply as he says; “Don’t call me that.” 

Tubbo’s eyes narrow suspiciously, but he only shrugs. “Fine. Why did you want to see me, George?” 

George huffs out a sigh and leans back into his throne. He crosses his arms defensively and looks at Tubbo. “I might be stepping down soon… As King.” 

Tubbo blanks for a moment. “You… what?” 

George looks away uncomfortably. “Dream and I had a.. Conversation about it. I think it’s best for everyone.” 

Tubbo feels his annoyance increase by the thousands and this time, he can’t hide it. His hand comes up to pinch the bridge of his nose and he sighs loudly. There’s a dull ache forming at his temples and he immediately wants to turn and leave. He was right about this being a waste of time. 

“This could have been in a letter.” He says calmly. 

“I know that.” George says. “But I need advice… And you are the only level headed person here.” 

_ Oh _ . Tubbo thinks with bitter amusement.  _ Oh how wrong you are, George. _

“I want to leave my position. The role of King doesn’t… It doesn’t suit me. I hate it, actually. I think it’s better if Eret takes their position again and rules neutrally, just as before.” 

Tubbo makes a face. “Eret was never neutral.” 

George’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you-” 

“He betrayed us when L’manburg was first made. They sided with Dream for power, it's the very reason he was made King. That-” Tubbo points to the throne- “was his grand prize.” 

George looks down at the throne he’s sat in and frowns for a moment, before shaking his head stubbornly. “Roles change overtime. I’ve been serving as neutral since-” 

“Since Dream realized he was losing his precious King.” Tubbo yawns, stretching his arms over his head. He looks as bored as he feels. “Do what you want, George.” 

The King drops his head into his hand and sighs frustratingly. “I want to know what you think, Tubbo.” 

The teen resists the urge to roll his eyes and instead crosses his arms. “Stay a while longer.” Tubbo says. “Dream put you there for a reason and it's meant to stay neutral and safe. Prime knows we need it.” 

George is silent after that. He doesn’t even look at Tubbo when he waves a dismissive hand in the air. The doors open. Tubbo glares at the man as he turns to leave. The ache in his temples grow deeper as he makes his way into the sun. It’s cold out, being mid-december and all. L’manburg is already covered with snow, it seems the castle hasn’t seen the touch of a “christmas miracle” yet.

He takes the walk back toward L’manburg slowly. He thinks a nap could do, when he makes it home. Something quick that wouldn’t get in the way of the mass amounts of work he has to do. 

“Tubbo! Hey!”

He doesn’t react entirely when he hears his name called, in fact, he continues walking. A body bustles into his side and he knows immediately that it's Ranboo. The taller boy slings an arm over Tubbo’s shoulder. “How’s it going, Mr. President?” 

“Ranboo.” Tubbo says as enthusiastically as he can manage. He looks up at the boy, “How are you, my friend.” 

“Good, good.” He looks ahead of them as they walk, then down to Tubbo again. “Are you doing alright? You look.. Tired.”

Tubbo hums in response. “I am. Very much so.” 

“Oh.” Ranboo says, he seems taken aback at his friend's sudden honesty. “Are you… Do you need help with anything?” 

Tubbo smiles. He can feel sleep putting him on the edge of delirium now. “Oh no, no, no, no Ranboo. I am perfectly fine. I am just going to take a quick nap. A very fast one. No need to worry, Ranboo.” 

“Oh you are very tired, Tubbo.” The half enderman says with a sure nod. He pulls Tubbo closer to him , letting his tired friend lean on him as they head into L’manburg. “Let's get you home buddy.” 

Tubbo doesn’t complain much. He lets himself be guided home, content to have his new friend near.

He dreams of Tommy. 

He sees his best friend, angry and seething. A sword in his hand. Eyes locked in on Tubbo, ready to attack. Tubbo doesn’t have the voice to scream. To beg Tommy to stop. It’s only when his best friend drives the sword into his chest, that Tubbo screams. 

He wakes up with a jolt, eyes blinking wide open at the ceiling. It’s pitch black in his room, he notes. Then, with a more sober thought— _ so much for a nap.  _

  
  


**-0-**

  
  
  
  


George finds himself at the mercy of Alex tonight. His friend is going on about war plans and weapons—issues that should concern the  _ legal  _ side of George, but he could not be bothered at this point. Not with the dizziness of wine making him stationary in his seat of the dinning hall. Alex doesn’t drink, not like before. George had only noticed tonight, seeing as his friend was now on his second and final glass of wine, still half full while well into the night. 

“Karl said It’s pointless.” Alex says. He scowls a bit to himself, “He doesn’t understand.” 

George hums, “What if he does?”

“What?” Alex scoffs, “George I thought you agreed with me.” 

“Oh come on, you know I’ll support you, Alex.” George says with a roll of his eyes. He kicks his feet up onto the table carelessly. 

Alex follows his movement with narrowed eyes. “That sounds like bullshit, George.” 

George sighs. “Alex. I will support you as a friend. I cannot support you as King. This army you and your cabinet are putting together is L’manburg business.” He glances at his friend, “Personal business, even.” 

“Yeah, it is personal.” Alex confirms hotly. “He needs to pay for what he did to L’manburg. He hurt a lot of people, including  _ me. _ ” 

George can’t say he feels sympathy for the situation. In fact—he really doesn’t care. But he obviously wouldn’t disclose that, not when Alex is so worked up already. It’s just  _ boring _ . All the violence and war on the SMP has been a repetitive cycle. 

All he can do is sit and watch. 

“I’m sorry, Alex. I wish I would do more but my hands are tied.” He says, holding up his hands for visual effect. “You should listen to Karl. How is he, by the way?” 

Alex huffs, clearly annoyed at the uselessness of his friend. But his defense drops a moment. “He’s fine.” Alex says, “he leaves a lot for some time though. Sapnap isn’t sure where he goes either.” 

George tilts his head curiously. “As in..leaves the SMP?”

“As in—“ Alex says, leaning over to grab his glass, “vanishes without a word. Sometimes he mentions going away but I’m always too occupied to follow up on it.” 

“Have you not asked him once he comes back?” 

Alex snorts. “No yeah I just completely ignored it- Of course I did.” He sighs, “We both did. He acts like he doesn’t know anything—or maybe he doesn’t really know. It’s like he forgets where he was every time and just.. shows up like it’s normal.” 

George feels intrigue pulling at his drunken mind. Something in him desperately says this should be kept away from Dream. The way Alex looks tired and stressed just talking about it. He wishes he could do more. 

“I’m sorry, that must be odd.” George says. “You three are always welcome here. You know that.” 

“We know.” Alex says and smiles at him gratefully, “Sorry for acting so..  _ weird.  _ It’s been a lot recently.” 

“You’re alright.” George waves a dismissive hand. “Tell me about this engagement though.” 

Alex laughs. “Oh wouldn’t you like to know.”

  
  
  


He leaves well into the night. George had sobered up much by then, switching to water not longer after their previous conversation. The company of a friend is always nice. 

He wanders into the library at some point, a part of the castle he’s never explored until now. The shelves are high, stretching from floor to ceiling with steps and platforms to access them. The only light is hanging lanterns and torches along the ceilings and walls, creating a flickering of shadows as he enters. 

It’s a beautiful room. He wonders absentmindedly if Eret ever used it. If the previous monarch had managed to read every single piece of literature slotted into the shelves. He walks up to the second floor, letting his fingers drag across the books as he does so. 

The majority of them are enchantments, he notes. Some are useless, others make his brow quirk in surprise. Surely Eret could have taken these with him, George knows he would have. Reading through the titles, he notices the enchantments end at some point and lead into unlabeled books; their spines empty and bare of official titles. Curiosity gets the better of him and he pulls the nearest one from its spot. 

It reads;  _ L’manburg: Vol. 1 _

George’s eyes widen and he flips it open to the first page. It’s author is written as  _ King Eret _ . George bites his lip nervously and closes it with a quick motion. He tucks it under his arm and makes his way back toward the bottom floor. At the very opposite of the entrance is a large oak desk. To its back, is a grand wall to floor window. 

George takes his place there, plopping the book down on the surface. A cloud of dust kicks up as he does so and he coughs loudly, swatting a hand around him to desperately clear the air. 

“Getting some reading in?” 

George yells in surprise. He jumps in his seat, hand flying to his chest. Dream is leant against the library doors, mask off and held loosely in his hands. He looks amused at George’s reaction, grinning ear to ear. 

“What—how did you get in here?!” George exclaims, catching his breath. 

Dream shrugs. “The front door.” 

George scoffs, putting a cool hand to his burning face. “Knock next time then. Save me a heart attack, please.” 

Dream laughs and makes his way into the room. “I think I’m good. Your reactions are funny enough.” 

George sighs, already inpatient with his friend. “You are so stupid.” 

Dream hums. George watches as the man makes his way over to a shelf. He pulls out another enchantment book and glances over the cover. 

“To what do I owe this late night visit?” George asks, leaning against his seat. “I thought you’d be too mad at me.” 

“Oh come on now.” Dream turns to him, “you know I can’t be mad at you for  _ that _ long. Besides I might have been—“ 

“Out of line?” George interrupts. Raising a brow at his friend sassily. 

Dream snorts. “Yes, actually.” He puts the book back onto the shelf and walks toward George. He stops in front of the desk, setting his mask there. “I wanted to apologize.” 

George can’t hide the surprise on his face as he mutters a small  _ oh.  _

“I just… We need someone neutral.  _ I _ need someone I trust in this position. I got scared, that’s all. But it doesn't excuse how I made you feel and I’m really sorry about it.” Dream says sincerely. 

George looks at him with wide eyes. 

“What?” Dream asks with an awkward laugh, “did I do something again?”

“Wh- No!” George binks, snapping out of his shocked stupor. “It’s just..” 

_ You haven’t been like this in so long. So human.  _

“Thank you, Dream. Your apology means a lot.” George clears his throat awkwardly, “I’m sorry too.” 

“No, George you-“

He holds a hand up, effectively cutting off his friend. “I didn’t tell you how I felt about.. my position. That wasn’t right of me, not that it excuses you giving me this responsibility.” Dream nods. “ _ But _ , I should have communicated it better. We wouldn’t have argued the way we did if I had only brought it up.” 

Dream lets out a sigh. “It’s alright, George.”

“I know it is.” George nods, “And, um..” George leans over, grabbing the book on his desk and fiddling with it nervously. “About that position thing.” 

“If you want to step down I understand.” Dream says. 

“No.” George shakes his head. “I’ll stay for however long you let me. Someone helped me realize, even if it’s uncomfortable, that being here is the best solution right now.” 

Dream raises a brow. “Really?”

“Yes.” George smiles up at him. “I don’t  _ like  _ it. But I’m willing to be here until you don’t need me anymore.” 

“I’ll always need you, George.” Dream says immediately. It catches George by surprise and he feels a little flustered. “I wish there was a better way for you to be in this position, I’m sorry it had to be like this.” 

“It’s fine, Dream. Really.” George doesn’t feel any resentment in that statement. He feels content. 

Dream sighs and falls into the seat opposite of the desk. He kicks his feet up on the wood and George’s face curls in disgust. He brings the book closer to him, away from his friend’s boots. 

“So, what are you reading?” 

George holds it up, “L’manburg: Volume 1. Eret wrote it, apparently. I’m guessing it’s details on what happened during…” George trails off as he meets Dream’s gaze. He doesn’t look amused anymore. In fact, he looks angry. “Dream?” 

“Give me the book.” He says slowly. 

George freezes. “What?” 

“Give me the book, George.” 

“I- Why? I haven’t even read it yet. I’m sure it-” 

“ _ George _ .” Dream holds out a gloved hand. He looks at the King expectantly. 

George looks from the outstretched hand to Dream’s face, then to the book in his hands. He feels dizzy, just like a few days ago. After a tense few moments, George slowly hands it over. 

George watches as he flips through it. His face is unreadable and cold. It makes him nervous. He doesn’t like when Dream gets this way. Not answering questions, being confusing-- _ scary _ . 

“Hmm.” Dream says, closing the book with one hand. “Interesting.” 

George blinks. “What did it say?” 

Dream ignores him. George watches as he stands from his seat and drops the book onto the cobbled floor in the very center of the room. George stands as well, rounding the desk and picking up the book quickly. 

“What are you doing?” He hisses, cradling the book to his chest. 

Dream is looking up, eyes scanning the second floor of books. “Where did you find the book?” he asks. 

George shakes his head. He can feel dread curling hot in his gut at whatever his friend was planning. “Dream what are you  _ doing _ ?” 

“Just tell me where you found the book, George.” Dream says, finally looking at him. 

George takes a weary step back. He grips the book a little tighter now. “On the second floor.. Near the very end.” 

Dream moves quickly. George watches him cross the floor toward the steps. He finds himself holding his breath in anxiousness. Dream stops at the very bookshelf George was at not moments before. He studies it for a moment, before he takes an arm and pushes them all off the shelf. George jumps at the sound of the clattering books. 

“Dream!” He calls out. 

Once that part of the shelf is empty, he then bends down to gather some into his arms. George watches in horror as Dream throws them over the railing and right to the very center of the room.

One after the other, they fall onto the cobble with precision. George backs away until his legs hit the edge of the desk. 

“This,” Dream begins as he walks down the steps. George’s eyes widen as he sees him equip a flint and steel. “This is why Eret is no longer King. This is why he can’t be trusted.” 

He lights the books. 

George’s mouth falls open as the flames slowly consume them. Dream walks around the pile and heads directly toward George, who immediately stumbles away. 

“No, Dream. Stop.” George rushes out. He brings the book behind his back, trying to shield it from the man. “Please stop.” 

“No one should have these, George.” Dream says calmly, “you need to trust me.” 

“You can’t do this.” George rushes out, shaking his head. He nearly trips over another shelf as he walks backwards. “You can’t ask me to trust you anymore, not like this. You keep things from me and lie and do scary stuff like this- Stop!” 

Dream reaches out to George, grabbing him by the arm and tugging him in close. George gasps and immediately tries to struggle his way out, but it's no use. Dream maneuvers around him and grabs the book from his hands. 

“No!” 

He throws it into the flames. 

George watches it burn slowly. The pages going first. The leather follows soon after. He feels Dream’s grip on his arm loosen, only for his hands to drift over his shoulders and pull George into his chest. George doesn’t react. His eyes water as he watches the books. 

“I’m sorry.” Dream whispers. 

_ Liar.  _ George thinks bitterly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello !! sorry for the long wait, writing has been a pain to handle. I want to make it clear that eventually this will be rewritten entirely as i have a few things i want to add/edit out of the story !

**Author's Note:**

> This will have slow updates as I'm working on other things! Next chapter should be out next week if I grind enough lmao
> 
> thanks for reading :]


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